the Kosmosis Chronicles
November 15, 2018, 02:54:11 am
Welcome, Guest. Please login or register.

Login with username, password and session length
News: Welcome to SMF For Free
  Home Help Search Gallery Staff List Login Register  

Chronicles of a Mercenary

Pages: [1]
Author Topic: Chronicles of a Mercenary  (Read 63 times)
Full Member
Posts: 179

View Profile WWW
« on: December 10, 2011, 08:59:16 pm »

You are awake.

Or at least you seem to be.

Conscious yet barely coherent, you are unable to comprehend the situation save for an odd mechanical sound. The whirring of a fan? The humming of a pump? You are uncertain.

Gradually, the sound grows stronger, presenting a more refined face than before, though still far from what you can familiarize with. You begin to feel a light pounding from within your chest, becoming greater with each passing beat.

A muddled field of light begins to fill your senses. The sound was now distinguishable, that of a nearby ventilation's cold artificial breeze. You start to feel your limbs, all eight of them, and a certain fluid rushing out of your veins as warm blood takes its place.

The twitching of your eyes, three pairs of them, come to your attention as you start to gain control over your body. The previously blurred imagery began to take a more defined form, presenting to you what seemed to be a small chamber, with a half shattered pod of some sort anchored to the rear wall. The room was barely large enough to accommodate the container, and the container you. To the end of the chamber was a portal to another, seemingly larger chamber.

Gathering your resurgent strength, you pull yourself up from your place of rest using your two spindly arms. You gently land on the cold metallic floor with your four thin legs as you feel the urge to stretch your remaining pair of limbs. You succumb to the urge, unfolding your wings into the damp air of the room. Retracting them, you feel a slight loss of equilibrium, a matter swiftly dealt with by your partially restored sense of balance and movement.

You make your way across the small chamber, using the wall as a guide. After several steps, you finally reach the entrance and venture into the larger room ahead.

The new chamber was confined, a tight passage it seemed, nevertheless taller and wider than the previous. It took the form of a long corridor, both ends stretching into what seemed to be infinity. At the end of each was a light, to the left was a strong white radiance while to the right laid a weak cyan glow.

[  ] Go left.
[  ] Go right.
Report Spam   Logged

"That bastard is watching that **** playing with a ****" should actually be a perfectly polite sentence to describe a child watching a dog play with some sticks. But it's not, because they somehow became offensive.

Pages: [1]
Jump to:  

Bookmark this site! | Upgrade This Forum
Free SMF Hosting - Create your own Forum

Powered by SMF | SMF © 2016, Simple Machines
Privacy Policy